When Heroes Die
by Erio99
Summary: What if Zane never came back and rebuilt himself? This AU follows what would have happened if he stayed dead, and if PIXAL was to take his place as the Master of Ice. All everyone wants is closure, but when a new evil arises and a portal to the Dream World is opened, they'll be getting everything BUT closure. Rated T because of violence, blood, and death.
1. Chapter 1: PIXAL

Erio: Okay, who wants to do the disclaimer?

Everyone:...

Erio: Ugh, you make this difficult. Eenie meanie miney...you. Jay. Do the disclaimer.

Jay: Ugh! Why do I have to do the disclaimer, Kai and Cole haven't yet!

Erio: Just do it.

Jay: FINE. Erio99 does not own Ninjago or the characters. There, happy now?

CHAPTER 1:

"What is your name?"

I slam my fist into the punching bag. "PIXAL!"

"What is your element?"

I thrust my other fist into the bag, fury guiding me through my training.

"What is your element?" He repeats, louder and clearer.

I don't respond, I just keep hitting this bag over and over again.

"What is your element, PIXAL?" He sounds agitated now. Not surprising, all things considered. This happens every training session.

"Just answer him already, PIXAL," Jay insists from the sidelines.

But I can't. He knows it, I know it, everyone knows it. Why can't they leave me alone about it?

"This is the only way to unlock your true potential PIXAL," the bearded man insists. "You have to let go."

My fist assumes a mind of its own, slamming extra hard into the punching bag.

Ching! Crash! Ksssshh!

My thoughts become consumed by fury and regret as I watch my leather opponent collapse. Its sandy blood spills onto the bamboo floor, and I stand above it in victory.

"What is there to let go of, Sensei?"

My voice is firm, angry, and passive aggressive-more so than it usually is when I'm agitated.

I walk past him, avoiding eye contact. I can tell the ninja are watching me, and Wu is closing his eyes with disapproval. I don't need to see them to know that, it's more of a highly accurate sixth sense that I inherited from Zane.

Why did we have to do this tonight, of all nights? I just want to go away, mourn, and commemorate the dead.

...

Commemorate HIM.

I slam the door behind me. It's unintentional, but the volume of the slam serves to get my point across.

It's interesting, though, how I wasn't like this before. Long ago there was love in my heart. I used to be such a calm, placid person. I used to smile, and laugh, and feel happiness.

Now all that's left is the emptiness that eats me up inside, the nagging hatred for my own existence. Why did I have to live? Why did Zane give me half his heart? Why do I have to be the Master of Ice in his place?

So many questions, so many answers-but few of them are ones I am willing to accept. I see no purpose in me continuing to live. I see no logic to me being the Ice Elemental, aside from that I apparently got some of his powers from the half-heart he gave me.

Strolling through the underground passages, my steps become strict and robotic-in stark contrast to the flowing gait of my past self.

I can still remember it now, the first time we met. I sashayed elegantly up to him, and we locked eyes and-

No. Stop thinking like that, PIXAL. Those days are over. You'll never get them back. Not now, not ever. Now all that's left is me, this empty shell of a beautiful girl who used to be great.

After a long and agonizing walk, I emerge from the secret Wu Cru catacombs and into the living quarters. A long, dim hallway meets me with a solemn lunar light that dances through the windows.

Four rooms down, to the left. Take a turn. Close the door. Pretend you don't want to cry. Sit there in grief as you wait for someone to come in and console you like they always do.

Knock knock.

Well that was fast, faster than usual.

"Come in," I say, a little less antagonistic than last I spoke.

My bedroom door creaks open, and a face meets me. It tells a tale of a feisty character, one filled with fire but made of water. Her eyes are plastered with sympathy and empathy, and her upset face tells me exactly what she's going to say.

"You okay, PIX?"

I cringe. Why does everyone call me that? I hate that nickname. "Yes, Nya. I am fine."

She takes that as an invitation to crawl deeper into my room, and sits herself beside me on my silver-duvet bed.

"You know you can talk to me if you ever need to, right?"

"Yes, Nya. I am fully aware that everyone is here to support me. Thank you for the sentiment."

She's not leaving. Is she so dense that she can't read my blatantly obvious social cues?

The water ninja sighs, and tugs at the collar of her gi. "Look. It's been hard on you after Zane died, I get that. None of us were romantically attached to him like you were, PIXAL. And on top of ALL THAT, you now have half his heart and have inherited half his powers. And you're supposed to take his place on the team, forced to live out his legacy. I don't know what that's like, but I can tell you that I'm sorry you have to have this burden. But it's not...YOUR burden alone. We were all close to him, I'd say that Cole and perhaps Jay were the closest of all. We all took it hard, and one some teeny tiny level we can relate a bit."

She thinks she can relate? Oh please. But, I have to be polite. "Thank you, Nya. Your words are meaningful."

I pause, and look at the stars beyond my small window. "Tomorrow is the Day of the Departed. It's been a very long time since Zane sacrificed himself to destroy the Overlord. There will also be a special ceremony in his honour that night, which I assure you I will be attending-"

She interjects, placing her hand on my shoulder. "We'll ALL be attending, PIXAL."

For a moment, I might of smiled. But I didn't. So I continue. "I promise you, Nya, I will go back to my old self once this day has passed. It is a sore spot for me, as you can imagine, and I may need some time to myself."

Her dead grimace sinks. "But PIXAL, that's all you ever GET. When you're not going on missions, doing your job, or training, you're by yourself. In here. Doing nothing but moping and regretting and snapping at people. At this point you've stopped fixing all the damages to your exoskeleton. Look at yourself! You're riddled with holes!"

I obey, and gaze down at my off-white hands. Rusted scars are dug into the artificial flesh, exposing wires and frayed cables. Green circuits glow dimly, LEDs blink sporadically, and specks of torn-up metal litter my belongings.

She is right. I don't take care of myself anymore. But do I have a reason to?

"Look, PIXAL. I'm not here to tell you how to live your life. But it's been three years since he died. I get that you need your time to heal, but if you don't learn how to move on that could spell bad things for the team...and for yourself. You need your space, I know. I needed my space, too, when my parents died. But you can't let your pain control you, PIX."

Okay, her thinking she can relate because her folks passed away is where I draw the line.

Trying as best as I can to sound as good-hearted as I did before he died, I speak. "Nya. I send my condolences to you for the loss of your parents. I am sure you will be thinking of them a lot tomorrow. I apologize for sounding...'cold'...but I do not feel you could relate to me. I am fine, in any case."

"I get that, PIXAL. And no, you're NOT fine."

Should I really tell her about my visions? Would that be the right thing to do? Probably not, Nya wouldn't understand anyways.

But it seems she already knows a thing or two about them. She grabs my arm gently. "PIXAL. You're holding something back from me. What is it?"

I look away. Can I really tell her? "I am afraid it is something you could not help me with."

"Try me," she challenges.

I let out a mechanical exhale. Alright, FINE. If that's what it takes to get her to leave me alone, then I'll allow her to think she's helping me reach closure.

"Two-thousand, four hundred, eighty-three," I say.

"What?"

"That is how many visions of him I have had in the past three years. And all of them, are of him dying. Not just his noble sacrifice, but...other times as well."

Nya lets go of my mutilated arm, and I rub my hand over the decaying metal. "I do not know what triggers them, but ever since Zane died I have been receiving visions. Each time, he is in some strange situation that leads to his death. Most of them are sacrifices. He is always in the same strange, abstract realm. He is always fighting some monster. He does not win every time, but he DOES die every time. And with every passing dream I have..."

I'm 98.6% certain that Nya's going to tell everyone else about this, about this secret I've been guarding under lock and key for all this time.

Nonetheless, it's time to finish my act. I lift up my purple gi, and turn around to show her my nicked back. I don't need eyes on the back of my head to know that she is looking at my gaping scars-ones that almost look human.

She lets out a small gasp. "Oh my god, PIX. I had no idea."

Again with the nickname. It's bad enough that I have to recall all this for her, but then she has to make it worse by using that forsaken word. "How could you have known? I did not tell anyone about this."

Her fingers lace the pain-stricken edges of a scar, still in shock. "What is this? What are these?"

"When he dies in the dreams, the place and way he died shows up on me in the form of a scar. I have multiple in my chest, from the many times he was stabbed or shot in the heart. Sometimes my own 'heart' stops, and sometimes I feel his pain."

"I need to tell Wu about this. This isn't natural, this isn't some simple dream. Something bad may be happening to you!"

And I know I can't stop that fierce water master, so I let her give me a hug and some words of wisdom before parting to tell the sensei of my predicament.

I scoff. I settle back into my normal persona, the one that doesn't have to pretend that they're still a heartbroken little girl who waits patiently for her knight in shining gears to return. Now I am the battle-worn warrior android who fights and lives without a purpose-who knows her knight will never come home.

A searing pain slaps the backs of my eyes, overwhelming my processors and memory drives and everything that makes me mechanical. Even my faulty power core, ESPECIALLY my power core.

It's happening again. Ugh.

I lay down. Gotta prepare myself for dream number 2,484. I sense it's going to be an especially hurtful one.

Closed eyes, mind focused. Time to embrace the nightmare, and let it take over my nonexistent soul.

It's hazy, but I can make out a world of darkness. A small light stands amidst it. Tentacles squirm under the sticky veil of death that surrounds a young man. He has his tufty white hair in an undercut, slicked back and messy. Blood cries from his eyes, ears, and lip. He wears a plaid, black-and-white dress shirt. It's unbuttoned, wrinkled, and torn in countless places. Underneath is a grey v-neck, one with ripped claw-marks that ooze a sticky red molasses. He is sad, and afraid.

If only I could comfort him, but it's just a dream. You can't comfort a dream.

His lower lip quivers, and tears dilute the blood drooling down his flushed cheeks. "I am a ninja, and NINJA NEVER QUIT!"

A scary, raspy voice calls out to him. "Oh, but you're not a ninja anymore. You're not even REAL anymore. And soon, you won't even be yourself anymore."

The person in question, who I know to be Zane, clenches his grip around a small dagger. Illegible scribbles are carved into the handle, and he reads them briefly before facing the darkness once more.

"Tell me, doomed hero," the voice says. "Why do you keep trying? You know you cannot defeat me, or fear, or the nightmares. You only have 667 deaths left. There is nothing for you to fight for, so why?"

Some tentacles grab at him from all angles, lifting him off the ground and constricting his chest and limbs. His weapon falls to the ground with a disheartening clatter.

Grunting, Zane responds. "I-I have nothing worth f-fighting for..."

The tentacles tighten their grip, and Zane coils within himself. Shaking and sprawling about as if in a seizure, he manages to get a few words out of his trembling mouth. "B-but I have some-ONE worth living f-for...P-PIX-X-AL..."

I try not to let his words hit me as hard as they do. It's just a dream. A very realistic one, but the fact remains.

The voice laughs. "Ha! Silly fool. Your girl is in the real world. You are here. You are imaginary. There is no way you can ever return to her, ever again."

With that, another tentacle drives itself through the space between his eyes.

...

The vision is over, and I would be in a cold sweat if I COULD sweat. My chest is pounding, my core is glitching, and I feel the presence of a new scar on my forehead.

Wu, Misako, and the ninja are all surrounding me with worried looks. All of their worried looks are targeted at my face, my scar.

"May I help you?" I ask between heavy breaths.

"Actually," Wu argues. "This is a matter of how WE can help YOU."


	2. Chapter 2: Zane

_Erio: You wanna say the disclaimer again this time, Jay?_

 _Jay: Hell no!_

 _Nya: What's so bad about it, anyways?_

 _Jay: Have you heard of the curse?_

 _Erio: Oh God, not another conspiracy theory._

 _Jay: Whoever says the disclaimer will get bad luck until someone else says it. Just this morning I had gum in my hair, stepped in dog poo, and had to do the dishes!_

 _Kai: Please, that's all a load of baloney._

 _Jay: Well why don't YOU say it, then?_

 _Ninja start bickering and teasing_

 _Cole: For the love of God, I'LL say it. Erio99 does not own Ninjago or the characters._

CHAPTER 2:

"Are you alright, Zane?"

A cold wind overcomes me. It's either due to his presence, or our current location. Mountains contain us within a flat tundra of white. The soft yet crunchy floor I lay on is whiter than my hair, skin, and clothes. My body blends into the pure backdrop of this peculiar setting, camouflaging me into the living entity of the valley we're in.

He hovers over me, callused hand reaching out to me. I accept his help, and allow him to pull me up. "Yes, thank you. How did you know to find me here?"

My companion flips his black hair out of his face. "You always get awoken in the same place, remember?"

Awoken? What does-oh wait, NOW I remember. Isn't it when you come back to life? "Ah yes, I seem to have forgotten that. Sorry."

He shrugs. "It's alright. All that matters is that you're okay now." A pesky strand of his green highlight slips into his face, and he angrily shoves it behind his ear. He's never been this on edge before. I wonder what's eating him?

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the cave. Oscar's waiting for us there."

He continues to drag me, gait stiff and rigid and dead. Something's wrong, I can feel it in the imaginary soul that keeps me in the Dream World.

"Morro?" My voice is hollowed out and weak, as my dry mouth vibrates with words that aren't real.

"Hmm." He doesn't look at me, just fidgets with his ever-bothersome hair.

"I sense that something is troubling you. What's wrong?"

Morro continues to evade my eye contact, and leads me onto my feet and away from this valley of snow we're in. His grip increases in firmness, tattered green attire blowing with the icy breeze.

"Morro?"

He doesn't answer me. How worrisome. He's not usually like this. Perhaps it's that I have 666 deaths left. That IS a satanic number. Considering how Morro feels about symbols and numbers like that, I wouldn't be surprised if that's the reason he's so upset.

His face cringes, dark evergreen ghost scars turning the purple bags under his eyes a strange hue. Just like me, he's covered head-to-foot in irreversible death tattoos. The back of his hand reads the number, '1,983'.

Wait, shouldn't he have more than that? Is THAT why he's unhappy right now? Not to say he was ever the sunshine-and-rainbows type, but this could be the cause of him being more finicky than usual.

"How did you die?"

...

Of course Morro doesn't answer my questions. Why would he? Given his current mood, I'm surprised he's even allowing me to hold his hand.

Why AM I still holding his hand?

Never mind that. That's not important. What's important is assessing what's going on. I died, again. Killed by Yume, again. Unless my spotty memory is failing me (it is), this should be the twenty-seventh time it's happened this year. And that's an improvement from last year, but still not a good thing.

Is that what's bothering my windy friend? Probably. Probably a lot of things are agitating him. If I can still recall things clear enough, Garmadon is still missing, Oscar only has three deaths left, and the Day of the Departed is approaching fast. No wonder Morro isn't quite himself. If I could remember everything like HE can, I would probably be reacting a similar way.

"Is this about Garmadon?"

Morro huffs, steamy breaths spiraling from his crackled lips. "He's still out there."

Called it. But now to comfort him. "Listen, my friend. We have done all we can. Garmadon is nowhere to be found. That was bound to happen. Oscar is still searching for him-"

He explodes. "What can OSCAR do?! He's only got TWO DEATHS LEFT!"

"I thought he had three," I say in a meek voice.

"During your spat with Yume, we got attacked." His words are starting waver and crack, emotion spilling out through the rips in his fascade of bad-boy composure. "His men came to our base, stole a few things, and brutally murdered Oscar. Made me watch. Then they killed me. While we were awakening, Yume's cronies made off with most of our equipment and research."

Calling my fight with Yume a mere 'spat' is a bit on the offensive side, but I suppose I'll let it slide for now. If I don't forget about it like I have almost everything else, I might confront him about his harsh words later. But at this point we don't need to start a fight, but to talk about our issues.

"That's horrible!" I say.

The real horrible thing here, though, is that I don't feel my words. I've become so desensitized to blood, war, violence, and death that someone dying or getting hurt-even someone I deeply care about-is just a part of life to me. What kind of monster have I become, that news of my own friends passing away doesn't even seem to affect me anymore? Would PIXAL still love the beast I've turned into, a loveless creature who can no longer cry or hurt?

Morro speeds up, fast-walking to the beat of his angry and imaginary heart. "And the one time we need Garmadon for his wisdom and advice, he's gone! Off the face of the Dream World, completely missing. Like he never stopped existing in the first place."

"Do not fear, brother," I insist, hand on his shoulder. "All is well, and will always be well. I can sense it."

He rips his hand away from me, sending a cold shiver of loneliness into my ribs. Or it could just be that we're in a place called the Frostbite Zone. Or both.

"Can you? Can you 'sense' it?" He snaps. "You don't know what this is like for me, as our team's LEADER! Being accountable and responsible for everyone. And the ONE PERSON who made me feel like I was doing things right, suddenly vanishes when I truly need his support! I was just starting to think that maybe I wasn't alone after all!"

Oh Morro. "You're not alone," I tell him.

He storms ahead of me at an inhuman pace. I bound lightly into his deep-sunken footprints, trying to disturb the perfect snowcover as little as possible while also giving him a reasonable amount of distance.

"What do YOU know?"

"A lot, actually," I contradict. It's hard not to say it with an agravated tone that only inspires argument, but thank God I've managed to keep my frustration from bubbling over. "You realize I've been here longer than you have. I may not recall how hard existing is or what the real world is like, but I can relate to feeling alone."

"Yeah, right," he sneers. I get that he's mad, but he doesn't have to be like this. I'm just trying to help. "You lived a perfect, happy life surrounded by loved ones. Nothing went wrong for you, and you died a noble death."

"But I remember little to none of that."

I wish he would just get it into his thick skull that I'm here for him, and Oscar is here for him, and though Garmadon is missing he's there for all of us.

"I may have first awoken in this World with Oscar," I explain. "But for the most part I was alone for a good while. And then a year ago, you and Garmadon showed up."

"But I STILL REMEMBER living!"

"At least you have that."

"But you don't realize." He pauses, glances at me with a headshake, and keeps going. Can't he slow down, my exhausted spirit is having a hard time catching up!

"Realize what?"

"Ignorance is bliss, snowflake."

With that, he harshly kidnaps my hand once again and drags me away. Our increased speed is making it difficult to remain in his footprints, and only makes a bigger mess of the ground.

My wobbly legs flail about, kicking up frosted leaves and sticks as I'm dragged through this especially cold Zone.

The end is a good mile or so ahead, buildings and streets lying on the other side of the Border. A low hum of uptown chaos wafts into my unreal ears, mingling with the breaths of my companion.

His grip loosens, and what I can see of his eyes inform me that he's beginning to simmer down a bit. Perhaps all he needed was some time to let it out, sometimes all we need is a moment to scream and get angry and know that our fury is heard. Hopefully I've given him that, so that he can know that it's okay.

But is it okay? Will it continue to be okay? The fact that I carry the letter with me everywhere implies that at least a small part of me thinks it WON'T be okay.

I can only hope, though. I can only hope that we'll find our way back to the real world, and we'll reunite with those we care about.

My beloved dagger jostles in its sheath, slapping against my frigid thigh with every stride.

"Is Oscar alright?" I finally ask.

"I think so," Morro responds, void of emotion. "He was doing fine before I left. He's just a little shaken up by all this, but he'll get over it."

"One would think that after all these years of being in the Dream World with me of all people, he'd be used to all this by now," I say.

He doesn't talk back to me. He's likely dwelling on Oscar's fractured psychosis and predicament. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to bring up our friend, after all.

"So you say Garmadon isn't in his Awakening Zone?"

Morro sternly shakes his head again. "No," he grunts.

"Perhaps he wandered off," I offer. "He may have forgotten where or even who he is. The Dream World has a way of making you lose sight of yourself, I know that better than anyone."

"Can you just-" he pauses, unsure if he should continue talking.

I sense that he wants me to stop vocalizing my thoughts. So I keep my lips tightly pursed, and allow him to escort me up to what I can assume is our ride.

It's got two tires, a leather wheel, and a ghostly aura rising from its engine. Green flaming pastels are smeared onto the sides, adding to the faulty rebel persona that smothers him.

With great finesse, Morro slides his slim body onto the seat. One hand on the handle, the other beckoning me to sit with him.

What a relief. I finally get to sit down. All that speed-walking made me tired. I'm certain that I shouldn't be this tired, but all things considered I aught to give myself a little slack.

My tired hands clench his shirt. He removes a purple helmet from the ground, dusts it off, and hands it to me before we take off on his high-riding motorbyke.

The colour of my helmet, the tint of the glass frame protecting my eyes-it reminds me of something. No, someONE.

Purple always gives me a dream of this particular person. Their name-HER name-is on the tip of my tongue. I think it starts with a P, or maybe an X. More likely a P. How many names begin with an X? Not many, that I can think of. PI...XAL? Yeah, that's it. I think so, at least. Who's PIXAL, though? A person, sure, and given that their name is engraved into my dagger's handle I can only assume they're supposed to be special to me.

Perhaps I'll consult the letter when we return to the cave, to remind me. That IS its job

after all, to help me remember all that the Dream World has caused me to forget.

...

My eyes begin to hurt, my head throbs. The fake blood coursing through my equally fake veins stab their way through the fleshy depths of my (also fake?) soul. It's happening again.

A small sliver of me tries to fight it, to fend off the painful dreams and thoughts that pursue me endlessly. But most of me welcomes it with open arms.

This is the only chance I get of seeing the real world, the world I left behind and died for.

My eyelids act on instinct, closing shut in less than a fraction of a second. I don't care that it hurts me but I need this. I need to know. This is the only reprieve-albeit a painful one-that I get from the love-and-war mundane of life in the Dream World.

A girl with silver hair sits in a chair. She's wearing a monochrome gi, with strips of purple here and there. Violet circuits glow as they crawl across her skin, lighting up the dark death that dwells within her faded green eyes.

A colourful group stands in her midst, looking down with worried faces. One with a long white beard sits by her slightly rusted kneecaps. "Actually, this is a matter of how we can help you."

"I promise you, Wu, I am fine," her robotic voice presses.

Wu? I know that name! Sensei Wu, I think. I think he was my sensei at some point. What do I remember about him? Well, he likes tea, and is Garmadon's younger brother, and is super wise. He helped me get my life into order, though I can't remember how.

"No, you're NOT fine," exclaims a frantic boy in blue. "You're dreaming of our DEAD friend who is very DEAD-right before Day of the DEPARTED, and you've had these dreams for years and you get scars reflecting where he DIES in every single dream you have of him!"

Jay, Jay Walker. Right? I think that's right. Born and raised in a junkyard, the master of lightning, with a complicated romantic affair with the girl in the group. Although...it seems like there are actually THREE girls in the group now.

"This could mean that Zane's been alive this whole time," rasps a black-clad ghost. Morro? No, not Morro. He looks like...Cole? Oh right, he turned into a ghost almost two years ago. I remember now. Vaguely, but I do. It had something to with a magic temple or something? I've lost track of their adventures by now.

"Zane can't be alive," argues a spiky-haired guy. "We all watched him die."

Hey that's my name! This must be my old family. Yes, it's all coming back to me. Jay, Cole, Kai, Lloyd, Wu, Misako, Nya-they're all here.

Okay, back to the dream.

The robot-nindroid?-gets on her feet, joints creaking as she does. All her scars match mine. I think that's PIXAL.

"It's unlikely," Wu states, stroking his beard. "But it isn't impossible. There is a chance that Zane may have survived in a dream world of sorts."

Got that right, here I am. In a place that's even called the 'Dream World'. Wu always was the wise one, I think.

"Is there any way to access this 'dream world'?" asks the one with a green gi and swooshy blonde hair. "If PIXAL can see into this place, then there must be a way to get there."

"Even if there was a way," a woman I know to be Misako says. "It would be too dangerous. We don't know much about this place, or even if PIXAL's dreams are more than just that-dreams."

PIXAL whispers to them that she is okay and that they should not worry about her.

Though I know she was just speaking to those in her immediate area, I feel like that was a message was directed at me. Here I am, my thoughts drifting as I watch who I think used to be my lover get fussed over because she's apparently having visions of me.

...

Can she have a vision of me, having a vision of HER? That would get trippy.

"I'm fine." She clutches the place where her heart is, visibly weakened. Her lanky robotic limbs trip briefly. She runs into a shelf on the wall. As a scratch appears on her arm, exposing metal and wires and gears, a bleeding sensation digs a similar injury into my imaginary body.

"Zane!"

I'm jolted out of the real world at the sound of his voice and the feeling of him shaking me violently. The motorbyke has stopped, and it's parallel parked outside a quaint cafe.

My eyelids are thrusted open. "S-sorry," I apologize.

"Another dream?"

"Y-yes."

"What was it about?"

"PIXAL, again. She just got a scratch this time." I glimpse a short view of my arm. A newer, reddened, bruised scar overlaps the countless other wounds I've earned.

"So not as bad as the last time? When she was self-harming again?"

I cock my head. When did that happen? I didn't know PIXAL was into that. "S-sure," I stammer. "A lot less sad than it could have been, considering all that I've seen the ninja endure. They were talking about me. Apparently PIXAL has visions of me, the same way I dream of her."

"Weird." With that, he helps me off the seat and guides my still-frail corpse through the glass doors of the coffee parlor.

"Why are we here, Morro?"

"Thought you'd want something to eat before we hit the road again," he answers. "The cave IS a good ways away, after all."

I smile. Looks like my friend is feeling like himself again.


	3. Chapter 3: PIXAL

_Jay: So, Cole? You get the bad luck yet?_

 _Cole: Shut up._

 _Jay: Guys, was I right or was I right?! The disclaimer is cursed!_

 _Erio: Why, what happened?_

 _Cole: I don't wanna talk about it._

 _Jay: Cole only got a measely 44-minute special instead of an entire season, like mois!_

 _Kai: Your realize Lloyd and I have our faces on more seasons than the rest of yoy combined, right?_

 _Jay: Let me have my glory!_

 _Nya: This is a load of crap. If you won't all say the disclaimer, then I will._

 _Erio: No, I got it this time. I, Erio99, do not own Ninjago._

 **CHAPTER 3:**

This is by far the worst Day of the Departed.

Every Day of the Departed is stupid. I just naturally hate holidays or really anything social, but to make it worse I can't seem to catch a break.

Why the hell am I even with the ninja? It's not like I enjoy running around with them and saving the day, when I'd much rather stab myself and everyone else into oblivion. But this is for Zane, and his legacy.

What does his legacy even mean to me, though? I can't bring myself to attend his ceremony. I'm such a horrible person. But at this point, it's too late to regret or feel bad for myself.

Here I am, sitting on the mildewy steps leading up to Zane's memorial, alone. I can't even honour him right by at least making an appearance.

The thought of what I could be and who I could have been makes me sick to my stomach. All the ignorant bliss and compassionate weakness. A damsel in distress, who let her saviour be the only thing she cared about. And when she had no one to save her, she became me.

Who exactly is 'me'?

Broad stone shoulders are draped with clumps of moss and bird crap, defacing the once glorious structure. I don't remember Zane being as broad or bold in appearance as the sculpture implies. In my mind, I always see him as being more lanky, passive, almost meak in appearance. He was humble yet brave, submissive yet strong. He wasn't the towering figure this statue makes him out to be. But, the city needs a strong rock of a symbol to cling to when the waves of chaos descend. It seems they've made Zane into exactly that-literally.

Jay is with his parents. Nya and Kai are at their parents' old shop. Wu has retreated to seclusion in memory of his father. Dareth is getting the Royal Blacksmiths ready for their performance. Lloyd and Misako are at the Corridor of Elders to release a lantern in honour of Garmadon.

Their acceptance and bliss is stupid. How they're willing to move on and let go is pitiful. Their ignorance, their happiness-my mechanical stomach lurches with loathing at the thought.

I almost wish that Zane were still here.

But I DON'T, because his sacrifice led me to be the person I am now. My eyes are opened now to what the world is really like. It's a cruel, evil place that is unforgiving and has no place for the weak and innocent.

Lights flicker. Red, green, red, green, red, green-what's going on?

Battle pose ready. Something big may be coming.

...

Nothing. Well that was weird, to say the least. Whatever. Not like I'd care if something WERE to attack me.

My body loosens, and I return to my place on the steps at the memorial's side.

"PIXAL..." whispers a voice.

I don't even so much as jolt. What's the use? I don't care anymore.

The image of a phantom blurs in my peripheral. Part real, part fake. Made of plastic, but very realistic. A mannequin?

Curiosity snatches up the better of me, and I turn to face it.

Average height. Limp, collar-length, shaggy hair. A lime green highlight that glows almost as brightly as the rest of their chartreuse body. A faded shadow scarring the area around the eyes. Tattered, ghostly clothes. A familiar face looks at me with a undead expression as it quickly approaches.

"M-Morro?!"

"PIXAL..." he whispers again.

"Stay back!" I warn, but not genuinely. Please, Morro, come near and end me. Put a stop to this miserable existence I have been made to endure. Allow me to perish in the heat of battle, so I can finally fulfill my lover's legacy.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he promises. But I don't trust him. All things considered, why WOULD I trust him? The only thing I know for certain is that this ghost is my one-way ticket to the afterlife, and I'm not letting him go that easily.

"I find that very hard to believe. How have you returned?" My body is tense, mutilated fists clenched, and only hand is holding tight to my ninja hood. I'm ready to fight you, Master of Wind, and I'm ready to lose.

Something's off, though. He doesn't look like he wants a fight. His body is slouched, a golden sword dragging behind him, and a hint of goodness glimmers in his plastic eyes. "I just want to talk," he says.

"The time for talking is over! Fight me, ghost!"

I lunge at him, ready to give him all that I got. Ready to have him stab me through my power core and finish the job that Zane's death started.

At the last minute, he raises his sword-not to attack me, but instead in defense. "I don't want to fight you, PIXAL."

"WELL I WANT TO FIGHT YOU!"

He keeps backing up repeatedly, as I continue to swing at him with shurikens that aren't mine. Every step closer to him slaps another icy vow of death into my robotic heart. I wish, I wish, I wish I would just die already. Then I could be with Zane again, if there even IS a mechanical afterlife.

"You have to listen," he pleads between heavy breaths. "Yang has brought me and your other past foes to life-Chen, Cryptor, Kozu-they're all after you and the other ninja!"

"I...DON'T...CARE!"

The tip of Zane's shuriken slices Morro's faux cheek. He continues to fend me off, but I won't stop.

"We were each assigned a ninja to kill, and I got you!"

My hands suddenly drop to my sides. So he IS here to kill me. Chest exposed, I bark at him to do it then. I scream and yell and cry my unreal tears.

This is who I've become.

For a moment or two, he just stands there. Doing nothing, saying nothing.

"Just do it already..."

...

"No."

"What?!"

"I said no. Zane wouldn't want this. He wouldn't want you to beat yourself up like this and long for death."

"You say that like you actually know anything! You don't know anything! Zane is gone and dead, and all that's left is me!"

He swallows hard. "He's not dead, PIXAL. He's not exactly real, but he IS alive."

"LIES!"

My faulty exoskeleton can no longer handle the weight of this stress, of this pain and agony overflowing from my pretend-soul.

"My soul was summoned from the Dream World," he says, approaching me like he's trying to comfort me. It's too late for that. "Along with Zane's, and the Overlord's, and even Garmadon's. We've all survived. The four of us have formed a team. Me, Zane, Garmadon, and the Overlord-who is now reformed and goes by the name Oscar-we've been trying for years now to get back to the real world. Yang brought me back, but I'm not going to do what he wants me to. I want to help you and the ninja."

"Me and the ninja? I AM a ninja, thanks to Zane!" I snap, spitting at the ground below.

"Zane gets visions of you," Morro tells me in a soft voice. He's on his knees, sitting at my side. No one but the now-green lanterns can see us. He rests a toy-hand onto my shoulder, but I do nothing but flinch. "Every time you get badly hurt, he sees it. He tells me and the others about how much it hurts to see you hurt yourself. He has your name engraved into his beloved dagger, which he carries with him everywhere."

"Lies...lies...lies..." Every time I whisper another word, I weakly bump my knuckles against the pavement. "Lies...lies...lies...Zane's dead..."

"He needs you," Morro insists in an echoey voice. "Now more than ever. The longer he stays in the Dream World, the more he forgets. Sometimes he forgets his name, and your name. He has trouble remembering who he is and who he used to be. Some of the ninja, he's forgotten completely. But you're one of the only people he can still vaguely hold onto. I don't know for how much longer. That's why you need to save him."

This isn't happening. I'm not weak. I'm not crying. Morro didn't come back. I'm not alive. Zane's not alive. I am PIXAL, a tough warrior android who doesn't cry or feel or love. I long for death, and assist those who can't help themselves. I'm a ninja. I'm forced to live out Zane's life for him. I don't want to, though. I just want to wither away and have the world fade out with me. Can't it all be over for once?

I open and close my hands. Each of these nicks, these rusty scars-these are all a part of me. I earned these wounds. I earned this rough personality. I earned the truth that now consumes me.

Zane isn't real. He's just a phantom that I need to forget.

"If you're a ninja, PIXAL, then you know that ninja never quit." Morro's voice is softer and soother than I ever thought he could be. I never expected that even a villain-the ghost who possessed Lloyd and released the Preeminent, no less-would try to convince me let go.

But what is there to let go of?

 **Erio: That was a short chapter, sorry.**

 **Jay: They're getting worse, in my opinion. When am I gonna get my time to shine?! I've had hardly any screentime in this fic!**

 **Cole: I consider that a good thing.**

 **Erio: Ugh. In ANY case, I just want to appreciate you all for your wonderful comments. Thanks for following this story. I put a lot of effort into making it.**

 **Jay: Obviously not enough.**

 **Erio: Do I need to make you say the disclaimer again?!**

 **Jay:...**


	4. Chapter 4: Oscar

_Jay: Are you willing to admit that I was right?_

 _Erio: About the superstition? Never._

 _Jay: Oh come on. You can't tell me that our measely amount of comments and likes DOESN'T have to do with bad luck._

 _Nya: Luck's not real, and saying the disclaimer has nothing to do with it._

 _Jay: No, Nya don't do what I think you're-_

 _Nya: To prove you wrong, I'LL say the disclaimer. Erio99 does not own Ninjago or its characters._

 _Erio: Thank you, Nya. In other news, I'd like to start replying to comments._

 _Kai: Please. As if we had any to begin with._

 _Erio: KAI. Not helping. Ahem, I want to give a big shoutout to TheAmberShadow. Your comments were very empowering and gave me the confidence to keep updating. Also, thanks to RJ, Ninalb, LuckyBrick123, and the GeekyNinja._

 _ **CHAPTER 4:**_

The sound of a soothing hum echoes throughout the cave. Stone walls are clothed with pieces of paper that are connected by red string, tape, and paranoid sticky notes warning me about some sort of massive conspiracy. Machines whir and buzz with mechanical life, wires criss-crossing along the messily carpeted floor.

I lean back in my swivel chair, glaring at the vaulted cave ceiling through closed eyes. I am so done, so tired. My body just wants to collapse and die again. Can't I get that? It's too late to keep going right now, I'll have plenty of time to live tomorrow.

...

So...tired...

...

No!

I jolt into an upright position, slapping myself lightly. "Come on, Oscar," my drowsy voice commands. "Gotta stay awake."

Blink, blink. Imaginary eyes held open wide, till they're about to pop right out of their imaginary sockets. Well crap. Now my eyes feel dry. That didn't help much.

Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep. Keep moving, keep going. Go for a run? No, it's too wet for that. Get some coffee? As much as I hate the stuff, that's not a bad idea.

My balance and coordination could be improved upon, but right now all that matters is getting to the kitchen.

It's not REALLY a kitchen. Just a little corner with a nice, wooden countertop and cupboard set I made myself. If only I had the time to do wood-working like I used to. That was always fun. The names 'Zane' and 'Oscar' are scribbled onto the doors of the cedar cabinets in a faded white paint, bringint to my attention a hazy yet pleasant memory of the day we finished furnishing the cave. In my quickly dying but eternally fake mind, ther are few memories I still remember and that day is one of them.

A coffee pot sits there, plugged into an extension cord. Cold, brown sludge sits inside it. Leftovers? Did I make coffee earlier? The countless mugs in the dirty makeshift sink seem to say so, but I can't seem to remember that.

Diggity-dang, we're out of mugs. That's most likely my fault, all things considered. With no other choice, I place the tip of the pot in my lips and give it a go. Bottoms up.

A disgusting, foul taste oozes down my false throat. The horrifying bitterness of this awful invention may not be real, but it certainly feels like it.

My tongue may be violated with a terrible experience that turns queasy as it sloshes in my stomach, but at least I'm refreshed. More than ever, better than ever. Like I could run a marathon, or five. Or climb the stairway to Heaven and leave this godawful place. Or rip the barrier between the real world and the Dream World to shred with my bare hands.

Or, more importantly, get my work done.

I slam my string-bean body into the chair once again, and pull it up till my chest is rubbign against the desk in a rather uncomfortable fashion. The computer screen before me is still lit with an otherworldly glow. Strands of data dance around, falling and collapsing and forming abstract codes and futuristic programs.

All this machinery, and I still can't find Garmadon.

...

The numbers and letters of all-but-random assortment speak to me, whisper to me. They hold my heart up high and promise to keep it safe.

But the one thing they DON'T promise, however, is to tell me where my sensei is. No, where my FRIEND is.

My relationship with Garmadon has always been nothing short of complicated, or so he would always tell me. By now it surprises me that I even remember his name, much less my own.

...

All my high-tech searches give me no results, no sign of him everywhere. I check again. Nothing.

And again.

Dangit, Garmadon. Where ARE you? I drank all that coffee and haven't slept in days just to find you, just to finish this stupid program that was supposed to bring you home.

But what if he's already home? What if he's found a way back to the real world, to Ninjago? Or maybe he died...

No. Garmadon had thousands of lives, more than anyone else in this group. He wouldn't die so easily, not without a lot of time and a lot of fighting.

Meanwhile, here I am with only two lives left. Sitting alone in a dark and empty cave, doing what's probably the least meaningful job in the whole team. Zane's the brains (that rhymes!). Morro's the muscles (alliteration!). Garmadon is the good guy guide (oh boy do I love me some word-play).

They all have a role. Where does that leave me? Some forgetful and forgettable ex-villain who is responsible for Zane's presence here, who can't do much more than do tech stuff. And with Garmadon gone, who's going to tell me otherwise?

The screen continues to aggravate me, persistently updating me on how horrible I am at finding my friend.

Coffee and rage pulse through my dead, inhuman veins. They power me as I throw my fist into the desk. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE OLD MAN?!"

Silence. Not an answer. The machines don't answer my question, nor does the rain tell me the meaning of life. As much as I want something to come and comfort me-

"Who are you calling an old man?"

Who's that? Who said that? I spin around in my chair, muscles tensed and ready to fight. I cradle my now-throbbing hand, knuckles dripping with bloody splinters.

A shadow emerges in the cave-entrance-turned-doorway. "Are you alright, Oscar?"

That voice. That silhouette. That walk. It can't be, can it? It has to be, I NEED it to be him.

My voice is wavered and shaky, choked up and unsure. "G-Garmadon?"

"Hello," the voice replies. Step. Step. Step. My sensei's gait is uneven and rocky and slow, probably the one unrecognizable trait. "It's been a while."

If he keeps up this pace, it'd be morning by the time we finally embrace. Better take this into my own hands.

With each bounding, caffeinated leap towards the not-so-mysterious figure, a little piece of my heart returns. He's back, and he's here to stay.

I lift myself into his old yet sturdy arms. Oh, how I've missed him. It's like being apart from your father, or uncle. Given that I've never had either of the two, it's easy to understand why I've given that title to Garmadon.

"I've missed you too," he informs me. "I hope things haven't been too bad while I was away. I apologize for leaving you all for so long but-"

"Don't talk," I insist, and he doesn't.

Not a word is said for a good while. The door remains slightly open, letting in a breeze of icy rain. The machines begin to overheat and are complaining about it with loud alarms. The coffee pot wasn't put into the sink. But I don't care.

"Oscar?"

I cough. Right. Right. Gotta let go eventually. "Sorry 'bout that, I just really missed you. Where've you been?"

"I'll get to that," he answers, scanning the room with a worried look. "But where are Morro and Zane?"

Ahem. Well now. That's an interesting story. I almost don't want to tell him. He doesn't have to get rattled up by all that messy mumbo jumbo.

But he asked, so I guess I must obey. "While you were gone...some crazy stuff went down." We both sit on our legs, paying no attention to how rough the tattered mats are against our shins. "Zane thought that Yume had taken you, so he went to get you back. He got killed. Morro and I were back here at base when Yume's goons attacked. Both of us died."

"WHAT? How many deaths do you have left, then?"

Of course that has to get brought back up. "Two, I have two."

"Well why don't I give you some of mine, I have more than plenty to go around-"

"I don't need your deaths, sensei. Consider this payback."

"Payback? For what?"

Sigh. "For...for doing all those horrible things. For helping you in your villainous ways, for taking over your body, for taking over Ninjago twice! Why does the Dream World only take away our good memories? We may never know. A-anyways, Morro went to-"

He places a firm hand on my bare shoulder. "Oscar," he says. "Forgive yourself. You were controlled by darkness then. You're better now. You're one of the good guys now."

Am I though? "I'm only good, I'm only HERE...because when Zane was killing me a piece of his purity leaked into my soul and destroyed the evil inside."

"Like what happened when LLOYD battled ME."

"No, he was battling ME. But yeah, the same results did present themselves."

Garmadon lets out a heavy exhale. "You must stop beating yourself up about this, Oscar. The past is the past, and the future is what we make it."

I look away. He has no clue how much I dislike that statement, the catch-phrase of Borg Industries-the company that granted my passage back into the realm of the living.

"A-HEM. Continuing my story." I keep avoiding eye contact. It IS pretty distracting. "Morro went to get Zane back from his Awakening place, and last I checked they're both on their way home."

A look of grave danger flashes in Garmadon's eyes. "You'll want to contact them. If what I've learned during my time away is true, then there's something Morro should know."

I give a sharp nod, and rise to my feet. After Garmadon refuses my offer to help him up, we make our way back to the computer screen.

My time in the digital realm, and as a computer with a robot army no less, has blessed me with the acute knowledge of technology and robotics I need to operate this high-tech equipment. It also gives me every right to laugh at Garmadon's confused expression when he tries to watch and understand what I'm doing.

I press enter, and the two of us put on comm pieces. "Morro speaking," says a fuzzy, bad-reception voice.

"Hey-o," I reply. "Oscar here. And you'll never guess who just showed up."

"Long time no see," Garmadon says with an instinctive wave.

"G-Garmadon?! No way! How are you, where were you? Why the hell did you leave us in the first place?!"

While I completely agree that Garmadon deserved the trail of angry explicits Morro screamed at him, that's no way you speak to your sensei. It's also a sign of weak verbal skills.

"I apologize," my elderly companion stammers, rushed. "And I'll explain everything when you and Zane return. By the way, how IS Zane?"

A pause. "...He's shaken, but not stirred. Never mind him. Something tells me you didn't just call to say hi."

"Correct," Garmadon answers with a grimace. "What I have to tell you is extremely important. On my journeys while I was gone, I learned many intriguing things. One of which is that there may be a way to communicate or even return to the real world."

"WHAT?!"

"Settle down, boy. I'm not done speaking. I was held prisoner for a while by Yang. You DO know who that is, right?"

Yang? But Yang's a ghost, from the real world. Morro expresses the same confusion, before allowing the sensei to continue.

"Ghosts can apparently serve as a bridge between the Worlds, although most either don't know about this or don't know how to do so. Yang apparently just figured it out. I learned of his plans to release certain villains from the Dream World, and into the real world."

"How can he do that?"

"Something to do with the Day of the Departed being on a yin-yang eclipse, though I don't know all the details."

"So who is he releasing?"

"As many villains as he can-Chen, Kozu...you wouldn't know most of them, Morro. They were all before your time."

"Don't remind me," he groans.

This is crazy. I want to freak out and run in circles and blow my top off about how insane this is. I may be released into the real world. Am I ready for this? Not emotionally, that's for sure.

"There's this Hall of Villainy at the museum," Garmadon explains. "And in this exhibit, multiple plastic replicas have been made. He intends to insert their souls into these replicas and have them serve his goal. What that goal is, is something I never learned. I believe even YOU may be a part of this, Morro."

Another pause. "What? ME? No way in hell, not yet. Not without all of you guys, and certainly not to serve some angry spirit."

"There's no way to stop it, Morro. When you get there, try to help the ninja as best as you can. And...say hello to my son for me."

Morro's bad-boy attitude scoffs. "Ha! Your unrealistic optimism makes me laugh, sensei. I know you were trapped in the Preeminent at the time so you don't know everything, but there is no way they're going to accept me or my help that easily."

Garmadon chuckles. "Last I checked, I'm not REAL. So who says my optimism has to be REALISTIC?"

I chortle boisterously. THAT was a good one. Garmy-one, Morro-zero.

Garmadon gives him one last instruction: "Find a away to last there longer than a night, to remain in the real world. To become real. I'm about to tell you how to get to communicate with the other side, so listen carefully. You're going to need to guide them to a certain location, and you're going to help them contact the Dream World."

 **Not as sad as the last chapter, sorry. I'll be sure to step up my game and produce real tear-jerkers in the future, don't you worry. In the mean time don't forget to comment, follow, and favourite!**


	5. Chapter 5: Third-person

_Nya: So far, no bad luck._

 _Jay: Maybe the bad luck is you FORGETTING about the bad luck!_

 _Nya: ?_

 _Jay: Just saying. Or maybe it has yet to come._

 _Oscar: But look at all the amazing reviews and follows and favourites we got! Our fanbase is growing! There's no way we're facing a 'curse'!_

 _Kai: Who are you?_

 _Oscar: Nobody?_

 _Kai: Uh...okay..._

 _Erio: Oscar, get back! You're not supposed to be here yet!_

 _Oscar: Aw..._

 _Erio: In any case, now I think is the time to start up a ransom._

 _Everyone: Ransom?!_

 _Erio: Three comments per chapter or no update. Got it?_

 _Kai: You put to much faith in your so-called 'fanbase'._

 _Erio: Just you watch, fire ninja! In a week, I'll have three comments! More even._

 _Kai: Wanna bet?_

 _Erio: You have to dye your hair pink if I win._

 _Kai: You're on!_

* * *

CHAPTER 5:

"You're staring."

"Well SORRY for being cautious."

"I already TOLD you," the back-in-the-flesh villain grumbles. "I'm here to HELP you."

The green-clad ninja speaks up. "I have to agree with Jay. All things considered, we can't really trust you just yet."

Morro crosses his mannequin arms. "All things considered, the feeling is mutual."

PIXAL frowns. This needs to work, for Zane's sake, but all the same she just wants to shove a dagger into her heart and end it all. What if Morro is playing them? This wouldn't be the first time. Then all of her pain and tears from earlier would have been for naught. She showed weakness. She can't let that happen again. Weakness will ruin her, crush her. Emotion will cloud her thoughts and inhibit her functionality. She can't think or care about Zane. She is a nindroid, an android. A stone-cold fighting machine meant to substitute for the fallen Master of Ice. Feelings are frivolous wastes of time that will only get in the way of her goal.

Morro stands up, chains rattling. His face displays his pure hatred for the 'precautions' they took to ensure he wouldn't hurt them, and the loathing simply emanates from his unreal body. "Is this really necessary?"

Kai groans. "Ugh, can't we just get rid of him already? Fight him, or kill him-or something!"

Nya places a soothing hand on her brother's shoulder. "Calm down, Kai. We have to know what he claims he's here for, at the very least."

"I've been TRYING to TELL you," Morro snaps with a scowl. The venom in his voice sends shivers down Jay's already tense spine. "I'm from the Dream World, where Zane and Garmadon are."

Wu opens his mouth to speak, but instead presses his lips against the tea cup. His students should sort this out.

"But they're dead," Jay objects.

"Think about it, though," says a hopeful Lloyd. "First PIXAL's visions, now this. It's possible that, as much as I hate to admit it, Morro might be right."

Jay scoffs. "What?! You're seriously trusting MORRO?! The guy who possessed you and tried to curse the world?!"

Lloyd shakes his head. "I'm not saying I TRUST him, I'm saying I believe what he's saying. It makes sense. But that doesn't mean we should lower our guard, or get our hopes up."

Now it's time for Wu to speak. "Lloyd is right. Explore all possibilities. Everyone and anyone can change."

Morro nods at his former master with respect. Finally, SOMEONE's standing up for him.

Kai furrows his brow. "Care to explain? Everything? Before I lose my patience and start flamethrowing?"

"Calm yourself, Kai," Wu insists. He sets down his cup and walks up to their prisoner. "Now Morro, explain from the very beginning."

Ugh. They don't have TIME to explain from the very beginning. If Yang's doing what he said he'd be doing right about now, they need to direct their attention to saving Cole before focusing on the long-term goal. No matter what, he CAN'T let Cole go through the Rift. No matter what, Morro HAS to go through the Rift. But it seems that none of the ninja are all that keen on listening to what would sound like stalling and excuses.

Fine. He'll talk. But he's got to make this snappy. Sigh. "Alright. The Dream World is a place that holds the souls of those that SHOULD be dead. But they're not dead. Members of a secretive Council swoop you up just as you're dying and take your soul to the Dream World. There, you are given one of two roles: Civilian or Hero. Civilians are the ones that make dreams and give them to you dreamers. Oscar and Zane used to be Civilians, but somewhere along they road became Heroes. Heroes, like myself, protect the Dream World from Yume."

Nya raises a curious eyebrow. "Who's Oscar and Yume?"

Can't believe he's actually explaining all this. "During the final battle that 'killed' Zane, a bit of the light in his soul seeped into that of the Overlord. The Overlord was purified, turning him good and making him worthy of the Dream World or whatever. Now he goes by the name Oscar."

"And Yume?"

"The darkness, the nightmares. An evil entity of pure sadism. She and her army of Shadow Spawns drag up the most hell in the Dream World, killing us Heroes time and time again."

PIXAL swallows hard. The dark tentacles that drilled a hole in Zane's skull haunt her, telling him he's alone and that he should just give up. Forget about it, PIXAL. Don't think about the pain. It will only make her hurt, and if she hurts she can't complete the mission. If she can't complete the mission, she'll never get the chance to die.

Morro continues. "The longer you spend in the Dream World, the more good memories you forget. Already I have to regularly remind Zane of his name, my name, and all of you. The only ties he has to help him remember are his dagger, which has PIXAL's name carved into its handle, and the frequent visions he gets of whenever PIXAL gets hurt."

Jay chuckles. "Hey, just like how PIXAL gets visions of when ZANE gets hurt."

PIXAL puckers up the facade she keeps for the ninja to think she hasn't changed from the hopeful nindroid she used to be. "Perhaps it is because the two of us share the same heart?"

Wu nods. "That's a possibility."

Kai struts up, trying to hold back the urge to avenge Lloyd's innocence-the innocence that this very villain destroyed. "What I want to know is, why and how are you back?"

"His name is Sensei Yang. He discovered a way to take some of us from the Dream World and put our souls into Hall of Villainy exhibits. But only for the duration of the Yin-Yang Eclipse. He plans to open a Rift that he will pass through to cure him of his ghostly affliction. To achieve this, he has unleashed me and other villains to confront you all and-"

"Yeah, we've faced and crushed all the others already." Jay beams in the rays of his self-pride. Isn't he such a special snowflake, able to defeat resurrected Skullkin warriors all on his own.

Morro gives him a glare rivaling the coldness of PIXAL's hand-me-down heart. "As I was saying. He managed to manipulate one of your own by exploiting their fragile state of mind."

Jay pushes his way through to Morro, grabbing the captive by his shoulders. "Who? Who?!"

"Cole, and if you don't save him fast it'll all be too late. He's at the Haunted Temple."

"Then that's where we're going!"

Kai grabs the hasty electric ninja's arm. "Wait. What if it's a trap?"

"Yeah," Lloyd agrees.

Morro shrugs. "Do what you need to do to know I'm not going to hurt you, green bean. But I'm telling you that not preventing Cole from going through that Rift is a mistake we will ALL regret."

"Why? What's the the Rift?"

Morro gives knowing grin. He's not going to say EVERYTHING. Watching his former enemies squirm is a lot more fun than he remembered. Probably because the Dream World made him forget everything he ever enjoyed. Plus, if they knew that the Rift would actually return their friend to his human form they'd be less likely to work with him. Cole can't be human. He's their only hope.

The ninja bicker, each and every one of them-PIXAL included-putting in their two cents on the matter. Wu stands there, stoic and silent. They ought to learn to make their own choices. This is a perfect opportunity to teach them about decision-making and teamwork. Not that they aren't already a formidable unit, but more lessons never hurt anyone.

"It's decided," declares the blonde one. "We'll go to investigate Morro's claims of Cole being in danger. And if he's right about that then there's a chance he's probably right about this

'Dream World'."

Kai grimaces. This doesn't feel right. He doesn't WANT it to feel right. He wants to hate Morro, and beat his reborn foe to a pulp but...but Morro's eyes don't glisten with the same yearning for evil as they used to. Now it's just a troubled guy not too different than himself.

They say that we hate others because we see in them something we hate about ourselves. But there's no way that that has anything to do with this, Kai is sure of it. It's not a matter of arrogance or peering into the void only for it to look back. This is about vengeance for Lloyd, who seems to consumed by this conspiracy to really bother fighting for it himself.

But for now, he'll wait. He'll see if Morro is really all he's cracked up to be. He won't take his eyes off him, not for the whole ride up to the Haunted Temple. Never in a million years would he trust that twisted ghost, who's now a statue come to life.

The ship rocks back and forth, howling winds casting them about every which way. Morro shrugs. "Not me. I don't have my powers in this body." A lie, but Morro still isn't responsible for THIS wind.

Lloyd looks beyond the empty skies. Apparently, the air isn't all that empty. A mystical tear rips apart the sky, blotting out the moon and the fantastical eclipse it bears. Not far away, two ghosts do battle atop an oriental roof.

They stop to talk.

"What is he DOING?!" Jay exclaims. He can't believe this. "Is he-is he TALKING to Yang?!"

Now's his time to follow Garmadon's instructions. Get through the Rift, become human. Say hi to Lloyd for him. Create a bridge. Save Oscar, Garmadon, and Zane from their prisons in the Dream World. Mission accomplished.

Kai mentally slaps himself. "Augh, I look away ONE MINUTE and poof! Morro's gone!"

Lloyd points to the sky. "Hey! Morro's flying into that portal!"

A few Airjitsu performers spiral into the air, dancing and fighting to rituals not see-able by most of the team.

PIXAL's robotic eyes strain to zoom in on what's going on. Cole and Yang are making their way up there, with Morro just ahead.

A human figure falls from above, with a graceful landing to end their descent. Black hair that reaches a set of firm shoulders. A green highlight, now no longer glowing in the vibrant yet 'phantastic' **(A/N: da-dum tsss! Get the pun? You get it? No? Oh...)** way it used to. A tattered shirt that falls low enough to cover for his lack of pants. Ropes. A shining golden sword in hand.

Finally, after an immeasurable length of time, he's human. Human hands, human face, human flesh. Life pulses through him once again, and it's great.

A stinging screech rings through their ears, shaking everything in a hundred-foot radius and casting a blinding light across the far corners of the heavens above.

Everyone covers their ears as Nya and Misako struggle to keep the Bounty suspended in the air and straight.

Nya warns them of the impending crash-land they will have to face, and not long after she keeps to her word.

The ship rattles and clanks, the contents jostling and shifting as its bottoms slams into the ground surrounding the Temple. Jay slips, and slides across the floor beyond his control. Everyone else has something to hold onto, and Jay is jealous of them for it.

Once it's all subsided, Misako is the first to march off their ship. "Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, I think so," Kai grumbles. Still upset about losing Morro, wherever that (to no surprise) traitor went.

PIXAL musters the long-since faded innocence she once held in her artificial heart to give an even more artificial response. Each time she lies like this, it takes a piece away a small fragment of her ever-crumbling sanity and this time is no different. She can't keep up this show forever. Hopefully, she won't have to. Hopefully, she'll die before the rest of them see through her expert guise. "Only minor damages, which a few repairs will be able to fix."

The rest of them follow after Misako's lead, the last one being a very battered Jay. "Wait, where's Cole?! Is he okay?"

No response.

Jay sheds a tear, downcast eyes displaying all the remorse in the world. "I...I'd give anything to have him back."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Even the Sonic Raider Jet?"

Wait. He knows that voice. That strong, sturdy voice overflowing with a maturity that the Lightning Master so comically lacks.

"Cole? Cole!"

All eyes turn to the source of Jay's sudden ecstasy, to find a human boy standing there. Black, shaggy hair, dark skin, dark clothes, and a green scar crawling down the side of his face.

Everyone attacks him, enveloping their now-human friend in a humongous group hug. Swaddling him in a mesh of limbs and love, forgetting all about Morro. Even Kai, for a moment, lets the Wind Master escape his thoughts.

But Morro didn't forget. "I hate to break it to you," he says in an unusually angry tone. "But this is no time to celebrate."

The group hug disperses. "Morro!" they all shout at once.

He smiles. The vibrations of sound feel so much more authentic on real ears. He'd forgotten what it's like, after all this time. But the smile soon fades as it dawns on him that Plan A is now a human. "Cole wasn't supposed to pass through the Rift. He was supposed to stay a ghost."

Cole bites his cheek. "Morro?"

The ginger stands before his good-as-new bestie, protecting him from the suspicious presence of Morro. "Why? So he can suffer for all eternity as a departed soul?"

Morro shakes his head. "You misunderstand. I do not wish ill of you, any of you. It's just that Cole was Plan A. Ghosts, you see, are bridges. Bridges between this reality and the Dream World. The only way to rescue those that you've lost, is to have a ghost."

"And why didn't YOU just stay a ghost?" Kai chides.

"Because if I didn't pass through the Rift, then I wouldn't last here longer than the eclipse. It IS the eclipse's magic, along with help from Yang, that brought me here in the first place." Morro would walk closer to them, but Lloyd's unhappy face tells him if he gets any nearer he'd get a revenge-kick to the balls. He completely deserves it, but it's not like he wants that just now.

Cole takes a deep breath. "Can someone PLEASE explain what's going on here?"

Since no one else will, it seems PIXAL must put on the mask of a dead robot girl to give him that answer. "Morro was resurrected through his exhibit in the Hall of Villainy, and warned us of a threat residing in a 'Dream World'."

Morro nods. "Yes. And Zane, Garmadon, and the Overlord are all there as well. We were a team, and now I'm here to help them break free before the nightmares destroy them. But since Plan A is compromised, which was to use Cole as bridge to the Dream World, I must now move to Plan B."

"Which is...?"Kai growls.

"To find Zane."


	6. Chapter 6: Zane

_Erio: Guess what?_

 _Kai: No._

 _Jay: Oh, you won the bet didn't you._

 _Kai: Shut up about it, will you?_

 _Nya: I kind of wanna see what Kai would look like with pink hair._

 _Wu: It is important to explore the world and all the possibilities._

 _Jay: OOOOHHH, dang! Even Wu's on our side._

 _Garmadon: And if you can't enjoy life by having fun, what's the point of living?_

 _Lloyd: Dad? What are you doing here? I thought you were dead..._

 _Erio: He ISN'T supposed to be here. Garmadon, get back into the Dream World._

 _Garmadon: I guess for me, life is but a dream._

 _Jay: Ey ey ey, enough chit chat. Less talking, more hair-dying._

 _Wu: Jay is right. Time is of the essence, and life is short. Make the most of the today, because it is all we have._

 _Jay (gasps): Oh my God, Wu. Have I ever told you how much I love you?_

 _Kai: Master, why?_

 _Erio: While they're all goofing off and trying to get it to work, I'd like to first say the disclaimer-I don't own Ninjago._

 _Kai (struggling as they try to hold him down): THANK GOD FOR THAT_

 _Erio: Ahem. Also, thanks to AdikoKoizumi19, KDucky11, and The Night Ninja. You three followed my story. This is only made possible by readers like you. Thank you._

 _Kai (now emerging with bright pink glittery hair): I hate you so much._

 _Erio: Alright, that's it. In the comments below, comment how you think we should torture Kai next._

 _Kai: Wait, what?!_

CHAPTER 6:

What am I doing here, in this dark alley? The unreal moon is lifted high above my head as I shuffle down an undescribably dark alley. Shadows lurk and run about. I am not alone, I'm sure of it.

Whatever is out there, it probably knows more than I do. How come I know so little? What DO I know?

I know that I have white hair, though I'm not old. I know I have a dagger, which remains sheathed in a holster at my hip. I'm short and skinny. The dagger has the word, 'PIXAL' engraved into the side. Why is 'pixel' spelled wrong? I bet it's like the name of a gang or something, or a brand. Yeah, probably a brand. Given my simple, average joe attire there's no way I could be a part of a gang.

There's also the fact that none of this feels real, in any way, shape, or form. Maybe I have some kind of mental problem...wait. WAIT. Now I remember. This is the Dream World.

Come on, think! Think back to what could explain why I'm here.

There are...faces. Faces with battle scars, both physical and emotional. Voices laced with malice as they point at me saying, "Don't you get it? Everything is gone!" and "Thanks to you, my high score has been deleted!". They walk away from me when I need them most, when I'm surrounded by blueprints with my chest popped open and a face of depression. They walk up the stairs to leave me in my solitude.

The faces won't go away. They're everywhere, no matter where I go and look. "Not even I would wear that!"

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop! I don't want to hear it anymore, about how horrible I am and how I cannot do anything right. But am I a bad person? Really, truly?

"Doomed ninja! Your time is over!"

Then, a person is dying in my arms. She looks at me, tears flowing from both our eyes. "We are compatible, aren't we?" Her dying, glitching voice stutters and stammers as she struggles to release her final thoughts and breaths. Then, limp.

These faces, they fight. They fight and argue, over someone or something. Something called 'Nya'. I try to tell them to stop. Nothing happens.

...

Oh. It was all just a hallucination. That's a relief. But what was that all about? So many questions, so few answers.

What's this in my pocket? This small, crinkly material sitting nice and folded at the bottom of my pants pocket?

Reach in, grab, pull it out, and unfold. Smeared pencil ink rubs itself on a piece of paper that has likely seen better days. Dampened, dried, torn, and taped together. Still, it retains some level of readability.

The handwriting is in all-caps, familiar, and chicken-scratchy.

 _If you're reading this:_

 _Your name is Zane Julien._

Well that's certainly nice to know.

 _You are in a place called the Dream World._

That, I can definitely recall. I'm in a place called the Dream World, because I was rescued from the brink of death and brought here to create dreams and save people.

 _You are here because you almost died, but a Council of people believed you would benefit this place. You're a hero, and ninja, and a nindroid. You have ninja brothers. You may not remember much aside from them yelling and arguing, but that's because this place eats good memories. If you're reading this, then it's likely that all you remember are the bad moments._

 _But your life is not bad. It is wonderful, even if it isn't completely real since you are technically just a dream yourself. You were built by your father, an inventor called Julien. He raised you and loved you like his own._

I...I remember! An old man with white hair and dark spots and wrinkles. Laying in bed, smiling at me. We're smiling at each other. "You're the son I never had." He flips a switch...and then there's nothing.

 _As you likely remember, he is dead. But his legacy will live on, in you. The other people in your life, the scary faces that shout at you in your memories-those are your brothers._

Certainly not very NICE brothers.

 _Because of your memory loss, you may not remember all the good times you had with them. So in this letter, I will tell you all of their names and personalities. It won't jog your memory, but at least you'll understand a few things._

 _First there is Jay. He wears blue, has ginger hair, and has an attitude quicker than the lightning he controls. He's an Elemental Master you see, and as are you. You have an Element you can control. You are the Master of Ice._

Me? Ice? Well...there are vague images of fighting with ice. So cool!

 _He always likes to tell jokes and see the brighter side of things. He is also deeply in love with another one of your teammates. Her name is Nya._

That thing they were fighting over is...a girl? How trivial. But who am I to tell? I probably haven't ever loved. It's one of those complicated things that no one can really explain, yet everyone is so passionately driven by it. Love, the planet's fuel.

 _You always had a close relationship with him. When you learned you were a robot, he was there to cheer you up and make you not feel alone. That's exactly why you can't give up on finding a way back to the real world, so you can repay him for his goodness towards you. And maybe, one day you can be the one to comfort HIM in his time of need._

 _Then there's Kai. Spiky hair, wears red. Hot-headed, short fuse, impatient-you've probably seen that in your memories. What's left of your memories, that is. He's loyal, determined, and headstrong. He'll fight for you no matter what, even if he doesn't have a plan or resources. He can get conceited at times (all the time), but what he lacks in modesty he more than makes up for in love. Passionate, caring, and powerful. It's not surprisng he's the Master of Fire._

Another Elemental Master, huh?

 _Though perplexed by each other, the two of you compliment one another in beautiful ways. Ways no one could have predicted. You give him advice, and calm him down. He is always there to inspire and encourage you when spirits are low. You must tell him how much you appreciate him._

But given how much he'd shout at me or be upset with me, he probably doesn't appreciate ME very much.

 _And Cole, the Master of Earth. Black wavy hair, dark skin, wears black. It's not surprising how 'down-to-earth' he is. There is this whole stigma about him being the serious one, and I guess in comparison to the others that is somewhat true. But all formality is tossed aside when you present to him a beloved dessert-cake. He's honest, compassionate, and brave. A lot more cool-headed than the others, and often the one to make plans and instigate action. Will risk it all for the ones he loves. But he suffers from the fear of being alone. He never told anyone, but you could always see it in his eyes. Abandonment, being alone, being forgotten...these are fears he faces. You need to get to him somehow, hold him, and promise that you won't ever leave him again._

And how am I supposed to do that?

I should keep my spirits high. Don't be a donny downer. I can do it. I can and will achieve whatever it is that this letter wishes for me to achieve. Maybe meeting these ninja will help me understand my relationship with them, and form more positive memories to replace the bad ones.

 _You've known Lloyd for the least amount of time, but there is great power within him. Maybe not even he fully comprehends that. He's faced a lot in his life, and even used to be against you. But after befriending him, you and your team welcomed him with semi-open arms. He grew up fast, and sometimes he struggles to let himself be a kid again. Understandable, considering all the pressure he was made to bear. All the responsibilities and necessities everyone needed from him at once. The chosen one, the saviour, the golden ninja, the green ninja. He faced a million tests, and has so far passed with flying colours. He has swooshy blonde hair and wears green. Meet him, and have fun with him. Loosen up with him. Enjoy his presence, and let him know that it's okay to be immature sometimes and it's okay to slip up._

Maybe for him. My memories seem to tell me that all I ever do is slip up, and that no doubt resulted in my almost-death. The death I still have fragments of memory of, in me. Where my heart explodes, consuming every bit of me. Just at the last second, dark-robed people snatch my ascending soul and drag me here. To this 'Dream World'.

Considering its rundown appearance, I'd say the 'Dream World' certainly does not live up to its name. But I must give it the benefit of the doubt.

 _Nya is strong. You always suspected that there was something special about her aside from her being Kai's sister, the girl of the group, Samurai X, and a generally intelligent and defiant person. She won't take no for an answer, and seems to be innately good at anything she tries. You owe a great debt to her, for all the times she's saved you._

Perhaps this Nya person will swoop in to save me from this place, any minute now. Any minute now...

...

Nothing. Where is she, where is this hero I was told would come for me? Good things come to those who wait, I suppose. Maybe I'll just sit here in this alley and prepare for her arrival.

 _As I write this, my memory is slipping. OUR memory is slipping._

 _Before too much escapes me, I must tell you of the most important person in your life. Her name is PIXAL._

Is this the part where I learn of the name inscribed into the handle of my dagger?

 _She is another nindroid. The moment you met her your heart felt free. Seeing her, a feeling bubbled inside your mechanical heart that cast all coding and numbers aside. It was love, and hopefully it still IS love. She did not feel it at first, not until she died._

That memory...that was of PIXAL dying? Why must ever love story be a tragic one?

 _You managed to give her half of your heart, passing on half of your abilities as a result. If she is still alive, I hope that she's a successful part of the ninja team. Not just because of the power you gave her, but the power that already lies within. She is fierce, independent, and loveable. Strong yet soft, it is no surprise you became compatible so quick. I do not know if you remember this, but in your life you had a tendency to be shy and soft-spoken. She was the kind of person that strengthened the parts of you that you lacked. She was bold, but not brash. Brave, but not rash. Honest, not harsh. Everything you could do, she could do better. Not surprisingly, she's one of the newer models. It's hard to describe with mere words, but the two of you have a bond. You, an older android and her, and new and sleek thing. Compatible? Hopefully._

So that explains the girl dying in my arms saying, "we are compatible, aren't we?"

But if she's dead...

 _You gave her half of your heart, to keep her alive. That way, you'll always be a part of her. And in a way, she'll always be a part of YOU._

 _The one that killed you is the Overlord. But he is good now, he's on your side. His name is Oscar. You likely remember him, as well as Morro and Garmadon. Talk to them for more information._

How can I trust someone who killed me?

 _Oscar is meek, shy, and afraid of ninja. It's a miracle the two of you get along so well. His interests are wood-carving/carpentry (DIY projects, the sort), knitting, and working with computers. He's a natural at anything involving tech. He thinks very lowly of himself, but he's always there to keep morale high. He lifts your spirits, you lift his. The two of you are inseparable. Never let him forget how important and valuable he is. You've been with him since the start of this Dream World business. Always kind, accepting, and humourous._

 _Morro used to be an enemy of your friends, one that came after your time. A ghost, and a grouchy one at that, but still caring and loyal. At the end of the day, he's a powerful entity. A force to be reckoned with. A formidable opponent, or a valued asset. One of the team, regardless of the past he's come from. He says PIXAL is doing well. She's taken your place as the new Master of Ice. I'm so proud of her, and all of her accomplishments. They've ALL accomplished so much. Even Cole, who I'm told became a ghost, has done a lot of growing and improving. I wish I could see them. Maybe I will. Maybe YOU will._

 _You must find a way back to the real world, back to Ninjago. Do your best. Everyone is counting on you._

 _Until you read this again,_

 _Zane._

But Zane is MY name. Did I write this? I don't remember writing this. But then again, I don't remember a lot of things.

"What's that you got there?" asks a murmured hiss.

I whip around, pivoting on my heels. "Who's there?! Show yourself!"

A shadow. A silhouette. Darkness shrouding the one thing I want to see. "Aw, how sweet. You've already forgotten me. Normally I'd be offended, but since we forget our pleasant memories I take that as a compliment."

"Who are you? I have a dagger!"

"And I used to be a giant snake," the shadow snarls. "So we're both equally matched."

Into the light.

Wicked hair dances on the person's head, springing with every life-sucking step. Monochrome rainbows slosh about in the undead eyes they're caged within. A cloak, dripping with bitter rancour. "The name's Donovan. Most people call me Nova."

I nod. "Okay...Nova..."

The person growls, strutting up to me. "Don't! You don't get to call me that. Only my colleagues do."

I place my hands on my hips. Isn't she quite the testy individual. Well, I'd at least better give her the benefit of the doubt. "Do I know you?"

She shrugs. "Well sure. We had an awful lot of fun together, all that time ago. Shame how we were always enemies."

Guess I can't lower my guard with her after all. And here I was hoping she'd be my saviour. In a cynical tone I ask, "So why is my enemy here? Are you coming to kill me?"

She holds her chest with a set of monstrous claws, howling with hysteria. "Oh that is TOO GOOD. You really don't remember, don't you?"

I shake my head. Stiff, firm, cynical. I really ought to loosen up. Aside from her death-grip aura, this Donovan person doesn't seem all that threatening. Well sure, it doesn't seem like fighting her would end well. But she looks like the kind of girl who, if she wanted you dead, you'd be killed before even knowing what hit you.

So what DOES she want? Guess I better continue our lovely chat to find out.

"If I kill you, you'll only come back," she says. "Remember Awakening?"

Bam! Thoughts and sparks fly about in the rusted parts of my brain, lighting up a portion of my mind I didn't think existed. Awakening. That's when you die in the Dream World but still have deaths left, and are brought back to your Awakening Place. Like checkpoints in a video game.

...

What's a video game?

"Yes," I answer. "But if you won't hurt me, what do you want?"

She offers me a sickly taloned hand. As grotesque as it looks, it would be rude not to hold it when she offers it. My small, calloused fingertips slip into the sharp edges of her grasp.

"Let's walk," she suggests. "Walk and talk."

I like the sound of that. One conclusion I've come to during my time here is that walking is very enjoyable. Peaceful. Just step after step after step, where you can drift away from all your mind-clutter and replace it with the pleasurable scenery.

My feet are the only footsteps to be heard. She just wriggles along, using the molasses tentacles poking out the bottom of her robe as her chosen locomotive.

How odd. Best not to judge a book by its cover, though.

"How much do you remember, Zane?"

Zane? Oh right. That's me. How could I forget?

I shake my head. "Not much. Just a letter in my pocket that tells me about who I am."

"Don't trust the letter."

"What?"

She slows the pace a bit to allow my squandering legs to catch up. "I said, don't trust the letter."

My eyes squint into a suspicious glare. The letter was quite informative, and rather soothing. I wrote that letter. Why wouldn't I be able to trust myself? "Why?"

"Because, it'll make you think that the ninja are your friends."

"Aren't they, though?"

She stops full-on, and kneels down to face me eye-to-eye. She actually has to squat for it to work. How tall IS she? "Think, Zane. REALLY think. Don't think about the letter, think about what your memories tell you. How much have they fought you or themselves? The yelling, the bickering, the arguing-and all you want is for it to just stop."

Like words from my own mouth. "H-how do you know all this?"

"I know you, Zane. And I've also read the letter myself. I've met the ninja, I've met you." She holds my shoulders, almost ready to shake some sense into me. "Now close your eyes and think about what I'm saying."

My eyelids droop, encompassing me in a field of black.

The faces, they're back.

They're shouting at each other, and at me.

"This is all your fault!"

"No, he's WEIRD weird."

"A teaching moment? What teaching moment?!"

"No sensei, he's right!"

"What are you wearing?"

"This does not compute!"

"This isn't about NUMBERS, Zane. It's about family."

No. No. NO. NO!

Stop getting upset at me, I'm not trying to be bad. Stop laughing at me because I'm different. Stop teasing me because I don't understand. Don't leave me when I need you most, don't turn around and forget about me. You're all too busy celebrating Garmadon's arrival to the good side to help me in the mourning of my father. You're all too busy bickering to even notice I'm here, all the time.

I'm invisible. I'm different. I'm stupid. I'm useless, and old, and broken.

I'm nothing.

...

"Zane? Zane, it's okay."

Huh? Who's there? Oh, just Donovan.

I'm curled on the ground, assuming a fetal position with my face in my knees. Artificial tears bleed from my face, an animal whimper shaking my hollow and unreal body.

She holds out another claw, a hint of a smile on her face. "It's okay, Zane."

Just leave me here, Donovan. Leave me here to die, like I deserve.

"That just shows you how much the ninja are NOT your friends. They don't care about you, or love you. They'll only hurt you if you try to go back to them."

This isn't comforting, Donovan.

She sighs, and strokes my head. "But Zane. I'LL be your friend. Me, Yume, and all the other Shadow Spawns. We can make you one of us. We will care about you, and love you. You'll be our family, and we'll never shout at you or hurt you like those NINJA did."

For something called a 'Shadow Spawn' she sure is nice.

It could be a trap, just like the letter. And I remember a few distinct occasions in which I was facing off against her and an individual of darkness called 'Yume'.

Is it a trap?

"How can I trust you? We're enemies."

She nods. "True. But that was the past. I want a fresh start, Zane. Let's open a new page. We only fought you because you weren't on our side. It was a tragic side effect of you being on the opposing team. But join us, and we won't have to fight any longer."

What a convincing offer.

But the ninja...

...

No. The ninja were mean to me, and each other. They don't care about me. They probably still hate me, now more than ever because I'm dead. But Donovan...the soothing melody she speaks crawls into my ears, and infects my heart with a longing to be loved.

I take her hand.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, Donovan. I trust you."

She helps me onto my feet and gives me a creepy yet comforting grin. "Call me Nova. You're one of us now."

"But I'm not a Shadow Spawn."

She giggles a bit, and begins a brisk walk. "That's exactly what we're about to do, Zane. You're about to become a Shadow Spawn."


End file.
